SquidRoad

Echa pa' lante: How not to join a conga line

How does that toddler underwear TV spot go--I'm a big kid now" or something like that? Yeah, that's me.

I'm embarrassed to admit I finally attended (strictly as a guest anyway) my first fund raiser recently, for a local Hispanic nonprofit agency. I won't lie though: I was in it 150% for the extracurricular activities. When I first promised a friend I'd go and do my part for a good cause, let's face it--that cause was the live band--a conjunto in Latin terms.

And let me tell you, this gig was most definitely on Latin terms. Hallelujah! Let the fiesta begin.

The week before the event, I asked my friend who the band was.
---Ahh, sabes qué, Nydia, we couldn't get the band after all. We could only get a DJ.

Whaaat? What did she mean they could only get a DJ? Didn't they realize I was rounding up troops for a friendly shimmy-shimmy showdown? What was I going to tell my invited guests?

It's a good thing most of them didn't show. They'd only have gotten my rebellious side.

It's like this. I've never been a stellar conformist. Probably because I've always been the 'different' one:
- The one with dark hair (in the more or less pre-Hispanic Midwest)
- The minister's kid ('priest's kid' when we moved to South Texas...I'll never get that one)
- The one who was a little too 'white' for some friends, and a bit too Hispanic for others (Oreo syndrome, whatever--it's No Man's Land)

That night at the fund raiser, my nonconformist took over.

It was a great event--packed agenda, for sure. Cultural dances, exquisite Latin cuisine, fashion show, more dance exhibitions, auctions silent and not so silent.

And then finally, 10pm struck. The fashion show runway got rolled up. Podiums stashed away. Brooms came out to get the grit off the quasi-parquet surface that was about to let me be me. The parranda got going just moments before my friend and I were about to exit the scene for a more vigorous Plan B.

As often is the case, an oldie but goodie known to salsa dancers everywhere built up slowly over the speakers. (Good sound! Sweet.) It was Grupo Niche's Una Aventura. (Think: "More cowbell.")

It wasn't long before we were rumba-ing to loads of classics, one right after the other. Great stuff from a DJ who knew his crowd of music-hungry Latins.

That's when I got swept up in a conga line.

I don't DO conga lines.

--Vamos! Come on--jump in! they kept yelling to me and my friend. And they would. Not. Give. Up.

My brain told me to run, but I couldn't do that--it would be rude. So I did the next rudest thing. Reluctantly, I joined the line (God help me), took it a few wild directions...and then bailed in a personal detour. But not before I took half the bunch with me, leaving the tail-end of the rumberos feeling a bit decapitated.

I caught a few sneers at first. (That'll show 'em not to recruit a rebel next time.) Lucky for me, I made some friends anyway that night, and we're already making plans for our next fiesta Latina.

Do as I say, not as I do: If you ever have to join a conga line, make sure you really mean it.

It's the small things that count

Mikey and I went for Vietnamese last night, then he took me on a little "sidewinding" tour. My husband is notorious for sidewinding--taking an unannounced detour on our way home from wherever.

Most of the time, I'm pretty ticked at him for not letting me know we'd end up at Home-Away-from- Home-Depot again, where I could've kicked my feet up on the dashboard and read a nice magazine or a book (had I known to bring it). Sometimes we have the foresight to plan ahead, though.

This time was somewhere in between. Mikey took me to one our favorite cheap-date spots...the penny arcade west of here in Manitou Springs. I LOVE that place! Between Pop-a-Shot, my favorite ball-tossing game, this other finger-dragging bit that wins you lots of tickets and my very top-most super-favorite, the Derby, it was a great night. Best part was winning two races w/a full house and trading in the small mug for the big one!

Oh--and the funnel cakes at the nearby concession stand aren't too shabby either. I guess I'm a cheaper date than I thought. Hmmph.

When your world feels small

...it doesn't take much to make you happy. And oh so happy am I.

We won a set of these dishes on eBay this week. We got hooked on Russel Wright ceramics at an auction recently in Denver, and this set at left was in the seller's family for over 60 years.

Beautiful lines, and the grey glaze is really elegant. Simple and clean, not snooty...just elegant. Can't wait to use them.

With work dominating my (our) time lately, every step toward our finished home (which at this rate will take about 50 years, but that's ok--we're never moving again) is a wonderful distraction, not to mention it will help out on the entertaining side, especially since all our other dishes are disappearing like black socks from the laundry.

Smart or stoopid?

I love tests. Myers Briggs, Kiersey Bates, IQ, emotional intelligence, DiSC, file-extension...you name it, I love it.

Mikey says I'm always looking to find out what "others" think of me...it's the PK-itis (from being a pastor's kid), which definitely is in my genes.

But try this one--it's quick and fun.

(By the way, I tested as a .doc file. Nasty!)

Ugly rules!

Tonight was the night Latino television programming finally made it onto the mainstream map.

Ugly Betty took the Golden Globe award for Best Actress in a Television Comedy and the series for Best Comedy Television Series.

Once debuting TV actress America Ferrera got over the initial shock of receiving the Best TV Comedy award, she spoke eloquently (Go, América!) about the impact Betty has had on young female viewers who are gaining confidence that they are worthy and lovable just as they are.

Until she hit the thank-you roster, it was clear Ferrera and her words had touched a nerve in the women in the audience--Terri Hatcher, J.Lo, Annette Bening, among others. There didn't seem to be a dry eye in the house.

Way to go, producers Salma Hayek and Silvio Horta (¡Te quiero, Mami!). And thank you to Televisa or Univision or whoever produced, "Yo soy Bety la fea" in Colombia. I never have viewed an entire episode, but I'm thinking now I should.

New beginnings (and reality TV)

OK, this is a confession to my turn-on to this one reality-based TV show, Clean House. New network, new show, new fans. :)

The episode I'm watching is about a family whose squalor is directly related to their inability to accept the tragic passing of their husband/dad 3 years ago. Fact is, they hadn't ever gone through his things and decided which things to let go of and which to keep. So the house has just done downhill since that time.

Reminds me of when my father died 20 yrs back and my mom told me, "OK, this is going to be a hard day, but we have to go to your dad's office and clean it out." And then, within about 6 months, little by little she gave away or sold his things, slowly giving herself permission to let go of my dad's stuff. But never his memory.

Starting over his hard. New beginnings, as hopeful as they are, mean letting go of the old and putting on the new.  That's not an easy thing to do...it's a deliberate choice that requires a total commitment to change direction, sometimes against one's will.

When I look at this show and see what holding onto Dad's stuff did to this woman's kids, I'm grateful for how my mom handled my dad's passing--with grace, maturity and loads of courage. Now this other woman has taken that step, both she and her children are free to move on.

I know reality shows are cheesy, but this one brought back memories. What's more, it encourages me to let go of 2006--which felt like a decade compressed into 12 months--and move into 2007. I'm still a bit reluctant because in some ways, it feels like 2007 will be more of the same. Then again, it may be a time of great transition for us. In a way, I hope it is.

Watching War of the Worlds

I like my movies to be somewhat believable. Fifteen minutes into War of the Worlds, I'm checked out.

It's a great guy flick, but ever since Tom Cruise had that funky Tirade on Oprah's couch, he seems so much less believable. Think about it: he only plays stressed out he-man characters who are on the brink of insanity. So, in those roles, he's great.

Granted, he usually has to solve the problems of the world before the flick's two hours are up (the McGyver of the feature film). But if someone had just told him that the answer to life, the universe and everything is--that's right, 42--there would be no need for him to bear that ginormous burden, right?

OK, I'm checked back in...kind of. Movie's getting better since it lost the big long spider legs of the creature from the netherworld. Robots that kill people creep me out. And here they come again. I think it's time for lights out.

Finding great Latin music

If you want the most authentic Latin music, Descarga.com is the place to go. Music reviews are thorough and show the depth of knowledge of veteran reviewers like Bruce Polin and Peter Watrous. These folks know their stuff about Latin music and its roots.

Of course, I use that info to shop the iTunes store and download my music there. Sorry, Descarga. :(

Here's one example of a great body of work: Rústico by Pedro Luis Ferrer. This Cuban artist has no doubt encountered trouble with Fidel because of his lyrics, but the arrangements and vocals are absolutely gorgeous*. Clean, slimple and clever. This album has been quite instrumental (no pun there) this week in lowering my blood pressure.

As my old friend Bruce Garrison used to say, "All good music is from God." Amen, brother!

*Notice the Carole King-like female vocals in places on this album. Nice stuff.

DWS #4: Look ma, all hands!

That Lisa Rinna chick is smart to have her hubby and kids around, because her partner is all hands and fingers. The kind of partner no girl wants. Girls: he's the boy your mom warned you about (and that's BAD, BAD--not good, BAD.)

But tonight, I gotta admit: Lisa nailed it. Quick moves, great head-snaps. I guess she was a "good bull" (they did the paso doble tonight, the 'dance' between a matador and the bull).

Hmmm...watch her go.

DWS#3: Beyond halftime

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Holy cow...one thing's for sure: they're longer than I am tall. Which, I'm sure could still add up to a squatty body, but look at THIS!